The First Two Words I Say When I Wake Up Every Morning

At one low point in my life, I never knew what day it was. Each one blurred together in a boring, awful, homogeneous blob.

“Aren’t we going to your Dad’s tonight?” I asked my wife.
“Babe, that was three weeks ago.”

Now, I say two words in the morning.

“Thank you.”

I wish I could tell you the dramatic story of a spiritual breakthrough. What happened was this — I got a puppy. Since he has to pee and walk in the morning, I can no longer can’t jump right out of bed and “hustle.”

(How will I ever be successful?!)

Instead he forces me to observe not especially interesting pieces of the universe like trees and grass and rocks.

The dog is already fascinated by all of these things. I didn’t get it at first. Now I understand.

Thank you — I woke up

Thank you — my legs still work

Thank you — The Wife is also still breathing

Thank you — there’s coffee sitting in this cool pot.

Thank you — look at that! There’s food in my fridge too!

Thank you — for the critical feedback, it only fuels my fire.

Thank you — by giving me conflict, you make my story better.

Thank you — the trees magically create oxygen for us to inhale — what?

Thank you — unimpressive book sales, now I know what to do next time.

Thank you — I drive a gas filled death machine around and it didn’t explode yet.

Thank you — there’s a magical device which allows me to share work with strangers.

Why thank you?


I don’t the exact statistic and I’m not going to look it up, but there is about a one in a gajillion chance of you being who you are where you are and when you are.

Pretty lucky, huh?

Thank you, life.


You were wronged in your life. I know you were. I’m sorry for that. But the instant you are grateful for that pain is the instant you remove its power over you.

Thank you, pain.


Paul McCartney wrote a song about a street, a barber doing barber stuff, and a banker doing banker stuff. Can you imagine a more boring scenario? Yet here I am humming Penny Lane 50 years later.

Art is everywhere. “Thank you” helps uncover it.

A piece of art is never just a piece of art. Without tragedy, without comedy, without hope, without heartbreak, guess what? There is no art.

Thank you, art.

See also — Nothing Extraordinary Happened Today


Think about your morning drive. How many traffic lights do you go through? Five? Seven? Twelve? You might not remember.

On the way home, though, I bet you notice which ones stop you and forget the ones that don’t. It’s human nature, I think.

Most of the time, though, your green lights will outnumber your red lights. Try it after you read this. Say thank you to the green ones. Take that red lights.

The world is out to get you. It’s just opposite of what you think. “Thank you” draws your attention to the good all around you.

Thank you, world.

Hey all,

I’m doing something a little different this week only at the bottom of my posts.

I’m asking you to buy my book.

The audio version of The Creative’s Curse was just released on Audible, and I didn’t want you to miss the chance to get either the Kindle copy and/or the audio version, which has an extra 20 minutes of improvised tangents which aren’t in the written copy.

If I have offered you any value whatsoever in the last 2+ years — through 397 articles on this site, 137 answers on Quora, 91 videos on YouTube, or 74 posts on my home blog — do me a favor:

Take $5 and pick up your copy right now.

I promise you won’t regret it :)

Much love as always,

Todd B